


A Message From Jack

by Possum_man



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 02:22:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21420616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Possum_man/pseuds/Possum_man
Summary: When the strike ends but there's still terf wars, Jack sends Race of all people to make a deal with Spot.
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65





	A Message From Jack

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, go easy on me.

Racetrack Higgins swallowed nervously. It had been nearly a week since he had to help convince Brooklyn, convince Spot, to come to the rally. Despite winning the rally and allying with them, Jack and friends were still getting into occasionally disagreements with them Brooklyn boys. So, for some god awful reason, Jack thought, a terrible idea really, that since Racetrack had managed to help convince them, maybe he could get Spot, because if Race was being honest that was the only person he really needed to convince, to get along with the others better.  
So now, thanks to that brilliant idea, Race stood in front of Spot Conlon. The Spot Conlon. They were in Spot’s room, which was actually a room, and not just a box in the street. Of course, he shared it with four younger newsies, who payed part of the rent, but just like everything it Brooklyn, it was still Spot’s. Despite being at least a few inches taller than him, Race felt insignificantly small under Spot’s gaze.  
“So uh, yeah. Jack wanted-Jack wanted me to ask if you could get your boys to, to get along better with ours. Er, uh, Jack’s boys.”  
“Uh huh. Well I appreciate you finally managin to spit that out,” Race cringed at the comment, “But you can tell Jack to shove it up his ass.”  
“O-okay,” The dirty blond stuttered. Spot raised an eyebrow, “Alright, real determined you are. You scared of bein stubborn or sumthin?”  
“No no no, that’s not true at all. Yous say that to Jack and he’d be dyin of laughter.”  
“So what then, yous scared of me?” When Race just looked down, shuffling his feet slightly, Spot laughed. True to his character, it was an incredibly loud, booming laugh. “You manage to convince me to come to some stupid soundin rally, which by da way, could have lost me and my boys food for weeks, and you scared of askin me to just, get along better? Racetrack Higgins, you are an interesting boy for sure.” Race’s stomach did some sort of strange flip. Partially from anxiety and partially from… something else.  
Well, if Race was being completely honest, he knew exactly why. Race had never exactly seen himself settling down with a lady, or rather, doing anything with a lady. Sure he joked around about doin stuff, but really, the thought of it made him feel sick. Now, it wasn’t that he didn’t feel attraction at all, rather he didn’t feel attracted to the kind of people he was supposed to. He like boys, a lot. And it wasn’t that he hated himself for that, he had done enough of that when he was younger, but he was scared. Not a whole lot of people were really accepting of people like him. To put it simply, he would get soaked. Yeah, Crutchie and Jack had something going on, and all the boys were okay with it, or at least, ignored it, but the world didn’t know, and the world, in terms of the newspaper and the actual planet, wouldn’t take very kindly to knowing. And Race didn’t wanna mess up the incredibly delicate balance that gays in the newsies held onto.

“Higgins, you def or sumthin?” Race snapped out of his thoughts, “Huh? Sorry, missed what you were sayin.” The taller boy mumbled quietly. Spot laughed lightly, “I asked what your face was so red for.”  
“Nothin, and don’t you go changing the subject.”  
“Whoa there Racer. You keep actin like that and I might end up forgettin that you’re scared of me.” Though Race knew he was messing with him, he still felt the need to say sorry.  
“Dang Higgins, I can’t seem to pin down your character,” Spot joked. “But like I said, tell him to shove it up his ass… unless you wanna give convincing me a shot.” Race’s throat felt way too dry. “Well, I just, uh, I guess it would be a good idea since everyone would spend less time holdin knives to each other’s throats and more time sellin papes.” Spot nodded, “Yeah, but we earnin enough money right now, especially since we can just sell any papes back that we don’t lose on the streets. So, Racetrack Higgins, any other benefits you can think of?”  
“Uh… no more annoying visits from me? Unless we go on strike again I guess.” He chuckled awkwardly, but Spot frowned. “And who said theys annoying?” The taller boy paused, glancing at Spot, “I… what?”  
“It’s just, I don’t recall saying that I didn’t like visits from you.”  
“But at this point, isn’t I a sign that somethin’s wrong?” Spot shrugged, “Well you certainly aren’t a good sign, but you ain't Jack. Plus, even if it means yous scared of me, you ain't rude, unlike some of them other boys.”  
“Rude to you? But you’re Spot fucking Conlon. You’ve got incredible muscles, a fantastic temper, and really nice- I’m gonna shut up.” Holy shit, I almost told Spot Conlon he’s got really nice eyes. Holy shit.  
“Race, look at me,” Spot spoke softly, placing a light hand on Race’s shoulder. “I’m gonna do something really out there. I’m hopin you’ll like it, but if you don’t, you can make me stop. But, assuming you do like it, I may just consider talkin to my boys.” And at those words, Spot kissed Race. Spot had his hands placed firmly on Race’s hips, which made the taller boy feel way to dizzy. Fortunately, Spot was strong, so when Race basically leaned on him, his hands holding onto the shorter boy’s shoulders, Spot was able to hold his weight. He sighed into the kiss when Spot softly traced circles into Race’s hips with his thumbs. Luckily for the two of them, Spot knew what he was doing, because Racetrack had literally no idea what he was doing. He was sure Spot could tell he was pretty clueless, but luckily, he didn’t mention it.  
After nearly a minute, Race pulled back. He felt dizzy, partly from the lack of oxygen, and partly because holy shit Spot flipping Conlon kissed him.  
“So, would you, by any chance, be willing to date me? Jack may appreciate it, considering that, as long as you’re the one tellin me, I may be more inclined to agree to deals and such.” Though he may have been a bit woozy, Race knew that he meant it when he managed to breathe out, “Yes, Spot, oh my god, of course.”  
“Good, cause I can’t say I’da been very inclined to talkin with everyone if you had said no.” Race nodded, still not completely there. “Race, if you keep lookin like that I’m really not gonna be able to keep myself from kissin you again.”  
“Huh?” Race mumbled. Spot ran his hand through his hair, “Just, give yourself a second to think about how ya look.” So Race did, and suddenly he understood what Spot was talking about. His hair was pretty roughed up from the wind on the walk over, and his face was definitely flushed red. That mixed with lips red from kissing, and the dazed looked on his face must have made for quite the sight. Race giggled. Then, he laughed. The longer he laughed, the harder he laughed, till he was hunchin over, holding his stomach, barely breathin. Spot looked at him, clearly confused, so once he managed to calm down, he explained. “I just can’t believe that I kissed Spot-”  
“Fucking Conlon,” Spot finished for him. “Well I mean, yeah! You’re the guy. You’re the one that everyone will follow blindly just because yous is Spot. And you kissed me. And you wanted to kiss me! I mean, can you blame me when I says that’s crazy?” Spot smiled, “Well I can’t believe that Racetrack fucking Higgins wanted to kiss me too.” Race looked at Spot quizzically, who simply responded with another kiss. Race melted into it immediately, just barely managing to hold himself up this time. Spot nipped at his lower lip, and he actually did fall. The only reason he didn’t hit the floor was because Spot managed to catch him, while somehow still kissing him. After he got Race back to his feet properly, he pulled away. “Geez Higgins. I know you never really kissed anyone before, but have you never even held someone’s hand?”  
“Do people not normally fall when you kiss em like that?” Spot chuckled, “I can say it ain't ever happened before, but that just makes you more special Anthony.” Race clutched his chest dramatically, “I swear you’re gonna make me pass out Conlon.”  
“Just called you by your real name is all.”  
“Well what if I told you that yous the most attractive man I’ve ever seen, Sean?” Spot rolled his eyes, though Race coulda sworn he heard Spot’s breathing hitch slightly. “Do you really wanna do that Higgins?” For some reason, Race was feeling brave, so he smiled, “What if I do wanna?”  
“Okay, well then, Antonio,” Spot said with an incredibly cocky expression, “Yous the cutest person I’ve ever seen. Callin you adorable would be an understatement.” Racetrack felt his face burn from the complements, and his throat dried again. He opened his mouth to attempt complementing Spot right back, but apparently he wasn’t done. “I think I’m more attracted to you now than ever. I mean, yous beautiful Antonio. And when you get all flustered it’s just about the best thing I ever seen.”  
“Sp-Spotty,” Race stuttered, face flushed red. “I-I ain’t exactly used ta complements like that,” he mumbled, burying his face in his hands. They didn’t stay there for long as Spot pulled them away and leaned in so close that their lips were almost touching. “Racer, you are one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met,” he whispered. Third times the charm. Race thought as Spot kissed him again. He knew what was comin, so there was no way he was gonna fall. No sir he could stand just fine on his own. Even though his knees went weak, he didn't fall. He let out a sound that may have been a whimper when Spot nipped at his bottom lip again, but he still kept his feet on the ground. Spot continued to bite but respected the boundaries that Race had put in place.  
Eventually, Spot pulled back, Race chasing after his lips. Spot smirked, “Jack’s gonna ask about that for sure.”  
“What do ya mean?” Spot took Race’s hand and led him to the bathroom, where he gestured to the mirror. Race looked at his own reflection, startled. He was correct in the fact that his hair was roughed up from the wind and his eyes had a dazed look to em, but oh boy. His lips were swollen, and lightly bruised in a few places where Spot had bitten a bit harder. He couldn’t see em, but he was sure that his hips would have a few small bruises from where Spot had initially gripped them. Race might not have looked wrecked, but he had definitely kissed someone with a bit of roughness.  
“Geez, I’s a sight for sure,” He mumbled, slightly embarrassed. “You sure are,” Spot purred suggestively. Racetrack just rolled his eyes, “Jack’s probably gonna be wantin be back soon.”  
“Jack can wait, can’t he?”

Race returned to Manhattan quite a bit later than he knew Jack would have liked. He wasn’t surprised that when he showed up to buy papes, he was greeted with a very angry Jack shouting, “Antonio Racetrack Higgins!” Despite that, he grinned, knowing that the time he had spent with Spot was worth two million lectures from Jack… well, maybe just one million.


End file.
